


Signs Signs (Everywhere There's Signs)

by phdmama



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Happy Birthday, M/M, Not a lot of plot to be honest, Smut, Some fluff too UGH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 21:49:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8118757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phdmama/pseuds/phdmama
Summary: I had a very silly idea and had to run with it (sorry Cue the Tommo, I'll get back to the other now!)
Each of the stories stands alone, really. They're not related.
This is for tvshows-addict in honor of her birthday! I hope you enjoy it!!
You can come say hi to me on tumblr if you want!





	1. Caution: Dangerous Curves Ahead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [freetheankles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/freetheankles/gifts).



Harry turns around and leans back against the bar, sipping his drink. Lights are flashing and the music is pounding, bass throbbing in his bones. It’s been a long week, two papers and three exams. Midterms sucked, but now they’re done, and Friday night has finally arrived. Harry is ready. There’s something in the air tonight, a feeling that seems to be spreading across the dance floor, that it’s a night for fun, a night to let go, to let tomorrow worry about itself. Harry grins to himself. He has a feeling it’s going to be epic. There aren’t a lot of options for the college kids in this small, Vermont town, but Manny’s is known to be generous on the pour and not too enthusiastic about checking IDs, which makes it a favorite of the students, especially with the new campus regs on alcohol. The best part is, it’s walking distance to campus, just down the hill on the edge of town. Harry heard at least three groups of students talking about heading there as he’d made his way from his anatomy midterm to the student center that afternoon.

As Harry surveys the crowd, nodding affably in return as he catches the eyes of various students he knows, he suddenly pauses, vision snagged by the man dancing towards the edge of the crowd. He is with a group of other students, including, YES, Niall, whom Harry knows from his stats class. Niall is a certified genius, and also somehow the most down to earth person Harry has ever met, which makes him a lot of fun. And he seems to know everyone. But this guy. Harry hasn’t seen this guy before, and he’s pretty sure he would have remembered him. He’s compact, is the thing, but curvy. He’s wearing skinny jeans that appear to be painted on, and a tight t-shirt stretching out over firm abs. Harry can see a sharp jawline covered in scruff, and a devastating smile that the man is flashing at Niall, who is executing some complicated dance move that’s, shit, almost pitching him over, until he’s steadied by the tall girl dancing next to him. Relieved that Niall’s not about to concuss himself, Harry looks back at the other man. In the flashing lights of the club, and at this distance, he can’t see what color the man’s eyes are, but honestly, it doesn’t really matter. Without thinking, Harry sets down his glass, and purposefully shoves off from the bar, making his way toward the crowd. He’s just going to say hey to Niall, he thinks, it’s just a friendly thing to do. He pushes past people until he’s next to Niall, whose grin stretches wide at the site of him.

“HARRY MY LAD!” Niall crows, throwing an enthusiastic arm around Harry’s neck and breathing whiskey fumes in his face. “How are you, my lanky friend?!”

Harry laughs, moving in time to the music, “Doing good, my friend, doing good. You?”

“Oh yeah.” Niall’s grin turns slightly maniacal. “Had that midterm today, plus two others plus two research papers and that GODDAMN FUCKING RESPONSE THING.” He shouts the last, as if personally offended by the idea of response papers. “I haven’t slept since…” his voice trails off, “I think maybe it was Wednesday?” he offers.

Harry feels a bolt of concern, as Niall cackles. “NOW HARRY, IT IS TIME TO DANCE.”

Harry shrugs, they’ve all been there, and Niall does seem to have to constitution of a goat. Harry’s seen him pull an all nighter, down two shots before class and then present a killer powerpoint on the elbow joint. It was impressive. Niall pulls him into the group he’s dancing with, and Harry lets himself be pulled.

Heart pounding, he looks up and meets the eyes of Killer Curves, as he’s started calling the guy in his head. The guy is giving him a very frank once over, and then grins, and Harry is lost. Niall glances between Harry and the other man, cackles, and somehow executes another complex dance move, complete with footwork and air punches, that lands Harry next to this guy, their eyes still locked. Harry doesn’t even know what just happened, but he’s not complaining. The other man leans in and up, and fuck, if that doesn’t send a bit of a jolt to Harry’s groin as he pictures pinning this guy to the wall and licking his way down his neck.

“I’m Louis.”

“Harry,” Harry replies, hold out a hand and receiving a firm grasp on response. He’s pleased, there’s nothing worse than a dead fish handshake, and if he has a sudden flash of that firm grip wrapped around his cock, well, really, who can blame him? He’s only human.

“How do you know Niall?” Louis is asking and Harry reminds himself that good social skills are always appreciated.

“We’re both biostats majors so we’ve had a bunch of classes together. We study together a lot. You?”

Louis eyes light up and he grins, apparently in recognition, “Oh, you’re THAT Harry! Niall and I go way back, I go to UVM just up the road, came down to hang for the weekend.”

Ahh, that explains why he’s never seen Louis before. “That explains it.”

Louis quirks an eyebrow at Harry. Harry shrugs, no shame in honesty among new friends, right? “It’s just, I would have remembered seeing you is all.”

At that, Louis’s grins turns speculative. And then, he begins to dance, and Harry is breathless. Louis’s body moves sinuously in the flashing lights, and jesus, he knows what he’s doing.  Harry returns the grin, and starts to move too.

They dance near each other for the moment, and then the music changes, turning to something dirtier, more raw. Louis shifts so his back is to Harry, and then turns and says over his shoulder, “Up for it, Harry?” He inches back until he’s within touching distance of Harry, and well, Harry’s not one to say no when a pretty boy wants to be touched.

Harry settles his hands on the curve of Louis’s waist, and leans down to murmur in his ear, “Up for it, Louis.” The involuntary shiver Louis gives in response goes straight to his groin, and he thinks he hears a soft moan.

From there, they dance in silence. After a moment of the tease of feeling Louis brushing so gently against his own body, Harry moves. He wraps one arm around Louis, resting his large hand on Louis’s abs, feeling the muscles contract beneath his palm, while he pulls Louis in closer until they’re tucked close together, back to front.

He leans down again, “is this okay?”

Louis pressed back even more closely, until there’s no space at all between them, “Oh yeah, Harold.”

“Not my name,” Harry mutters with a grin and then begins to lose himself in the feeling of Louis pressed up against him. He holds Louis close, and Louis is just about writhing against him, and Jesus, the view from back here is pretty amazing. It feels even better, and the low-level arousal that Harry has been feeling since he laid eyes on Louis is sparking now into something stronger.

He can feel his cock starting to fatten up in his skinny jeans, and from the way Louis presses back even harder against him, he knows Louis feels it too. He closes his eyes, and hears Louis laugh, “Feel something you like, Harry.”

This continues for song after song, until Harry realizes that Louis is grinding back on him, and he’s almost standing still, his feet barely moving, his hips jerking as he thrusts shallowly against Louis’s curvy ass. He’s so lost in the moment, he starts to drift his hand down, but before he can cup the bulge he can see pressing out at the juncture of Louis’s thighs, Louis presses a hand down over his, stopping him. Harry jolts back to awareness and freezes, flushing in embarrassment. “Fuck, Louis, I’m so sorry, I just.” He starts to pull back and Louis turns to face him, reaching up to slide his arms around Harry’s neck.

“I’m not saying no, Harry, I’m just saying, not right here.” Both men freeze, and Harry can feel the hard press of Louis’s cock against his own, and can’t help the twitch of his pelvis. He groans and shuts his eyes, suddenly feeling 16 again.

He makes a sudden decision, and grabs Louis’s hand. He pulls him towards the exit, ignoring the high pitched cackle he hears from Niall as they pass the table where he’s sitting, surrounded by a bevy of biomedical students and empty pint glasses.

Harry stumbles and Louis steadies him, hand on his hip, grinning a grin that is both far too knowing and fond for the amount of time they’ve known each other. “Don’t hurt yourself there, Harry,” Louis says, “I haven’t gotten my hands on that monster you’re packing, and that needs to happen soon.”

Harry gulps, and pulls Louis out the front door, where the bouncer just rolls his eyes as they stumble around the side of the building, into the dark where the light from the streetlamp doesn’t quite reach.  They move down the alley, until they both halt. There’s a moment, in the stillness of the night, the music still ringing in Harry’s ears, where he wonders about what he’s doing. This isn’t generally like him, he doesn’t usually get off with total strangers in public, but there’s something so potent about Louis that his mouth is watering as he presses Louis against the cement wall of the club.

Louis goes easily, his smile from earlier replaced with a look that is darker, sultrier. “So, Harry.”  Harry cages Louis in with his arms, and leans in slowly, giving Louis ample time to say no. And then, their mouths meet.

Harry is shocked at how easy this is, how fucking good it feels, Louis’s mouth opening under his, tongues meeting. They kiss like they’ve been fucking for years, and it’s easily the best first kiss Harry has ever had.  Now Louis’s yanking Harry against him, thrusting his tongue in and out of Harry’s mouth, and then, Jesus, he wraps one leg around Harry’s hip and lines them up, pressing their cocks together. Harry groans, pretty sure the bouncer can hear all of this, and not caring in the slightest.

Louis drops his leg, and spins them around. “I want to suck you. Can I, Harry? Can I suck you off?”

Harry’s head thumps back as he groans. “Uh, Jesus, yeah, sure. Go ahead.”  Louis drops to his knees, and Harry gives an embarrassingly high-pitched moan that makes Louis snort with laughter. Louis eases the zipper down over Harry’s throbbing erection, and doesn’t even bother pulling harry’s jeans down, just shifts them aside enough to pull out Harry's cock. He mutters a breathless “Jesus,” sounding as overwhelmed as Harry feels, and then “No underpants, Harry? My my.”

Harry gasps, “I’m...uh...out of…” He gives a shout as Louis swallows him halfway down in one go, “FUCK, midterms, laundry, JESUS CHRIST LOUIS” and realizes he seems to be losing the power of coherent speech as he looks down and watches Louis work him over with mouth and hand. Louis is sucking firmly on the leaking head of his dick as he wraps that strong hand around the base of Harry’s cock, and Harry realizes that his fantasy from earlier has nothing, nothing at all on the hot and wet reality currently engulfing his cock.

In an embarrassingly short time, Harry feels that telltale sensation building in his gut, and starts babbling. “Oh fuck, Louis, I’m close, man, you gotta pull off, you’re making me come,” but Louis shows no sign of pulling off, and instead, actually redoubles his effort, until Harry comes down his throat with a manly shout. And Louis just fucking takes it all, swallowing and then finally, he pulls off as Harry leans his head back, gasping as if he’s just run a 7 minute mile, his legs shaking. Louis looks unbearably smug as he wipes a drop of come off his cheek and licks his finger clean.

“Just...just...give me a minute,” Harry pants, closing his eyes. When his breathing has stabilized, he opens his eyes, and feels his heart rate pick up again, because Louis is standing next to him, leaning on one arm against the wall, his pants are open, his cock is out, and his hand is flying.

Harry reaches out and lays his hand over Louis’s, who growls in frustration. “Can I? Please, Louis, can I?”

Their eyes lock and Louis nods. Harry starts slow, feeling the slick sensation of precome under his fingers as he moves his hand. He starts pulling faster, squeezing tighter at the tip just like he likes, enjoying the feel of the hot,  firm flesh and the sound of panting breaths as Louis chases his own orgasm. After a few moments, Louis gasps, “I’m gonna, fuck Harry, I’m gonna come,” and immediately spills his release all over Harry’s hand and the wall. Harry works him through it, letting go when Louis gives a small hiss as he becomes sensitive. Harry carefully wipes his messy hand on the wall, cleaning it as best he can.

He waits for the inevitable awkwardness, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Louis turns around and tucks himself into Harry’s side. “Well, that’s not quite how I expected the night to go,” he laughs,  “But I can’t say I’m complaining.”

Harry smiles. “Yeah, that was...that was pretty amazing, Louis.”

Louis opens his mouth, pauses, takes a deep breath and then says, “Um, I know we barely just met and everything, but, can I give you my number?”  He looks momentarily uncertain, but the delight on Harry’s face seems to reassure him.

“How about after I walk you back to Niall’s?” Harry asks.

Louis nods, and placing a firm hand in the small of Harry’s back, guides him back toward the street.  
“Lead the way, Harry. Lead the way.”


	2. Caution: Slippery When Wet

Harry stretches out on the poolside lounger, body still dripping from his quick dip in the pool. It’s a balmy 85 degrees here in LA, it’s Friday afternoon, he’s got no meetings, no plans, no nothing for the next few days. He’s also got a fridge full of food, another fridge full of beer, and…

WHUMP. Harry grunts in surprise as all of a sudden he’s got a lap full of tanned, curvy Louis, whose bright pink speedo is barely containing his...assets, and he’s got all that bare skin, more skin than any one man should really have, and that skin is touching Harry’s skin  and everywhere they’re touching Harry is on fire. He freezes, and takes a deep breath, because no matter how much he loves Louis, how much he wants Louis, no matter how much Louis flirts with him, Louis still just sees him as a friend. Just last weekend, after their meeting with the new label, they’d gone for drinks, which had ended up as it usually did, with Louis hanging all over Harry and slurring in his ear about how there were no good men left in LA, “‘cept you Harry, you’re my favorite, you’ll be my best friend forever.” He’d slid into his chair, blinked owlishly at Harry and said, not aware of how he was breaking Harry’s heart, “I just wanna fall in love, Haz.”

Harry and Louis had met in their final year of grad school at UCLA, Harry in the music production MA program, and Louis at the law school, studying to become an entertainment lawyer, and had been almost inseparable from the day they met. At first Harry had simply been enchanted by Louis’s smile, laugh and personality. I mean, he’d NOTICED Louis’s fantastic abs, the curve of his ass, the bulge of his biceps. Of course he had, he wasn’t blind. But, when they’d first met, he’d been reeling a bit from the double whammy of breaking up with his boyfriend of 9 months, and having another good friend confess her apparent love for him, leading to the break up of that friendship as well. One of the very first times he and Louis had hung out, Harry had gotten sloppy drunk and ended up crying on Louis about how he’d never sleep with a friend again. Louis had stared at him.

“What the hell are you talking about, harry? You don’t want to be friends with the people you fuck?”

Harry had sniffed into his martini. “Nah, I mean, like, if I’m attracted to someone, I’m just gonna fucking date them. Michael and I were friends before we got together, and now we’re not. Allison and I were friends, and now we can’t even hang out because she gets all weird. She knew I was gay!”

The next day, Harry was a bit embarrassed. He should have known better than to drink gin, it always made him morose. He’d been a bit too embarrassed to say anything to Louis, a fact which came back to haunt him when, a couple of months later, he’d started to notice Louis. Like, really notice him, and not just the curve of his waist or the blue of his eyes. No, he’d noticed the way Louis always bought him tea when they met after class. The way Louis always remembered what projects he was working on, and asked him about it. The way Louis remembered every single friend’s birthday, and not only was the first on Facebook to say Happy Birthday, he bought cards. Real cards, made out of paper, and he mailed them, with stamps and everything. Louis was kind. Louis was thoughtful. Louis was lovely.

“LOUIS IS HUNGRY” a voice announces in Harry’s ear, and he’s yanked back to the present. It’s now been a year since they graduated, and the previous September, they’d decided to join forces and rent a house together, which is both the best and worst choice Harry’s ever made. Best, because he gets to see Louis every day. First thing in the morning when they're both growly and rumpled from sleep. Last thing at night, Louis’s sweet “sleep tight Hazza bear” echoing behind him as he heads down the hall to his room. They eat dinner together most nights. They go out together every weekend.  That’s the best. The worst, of course, is that Harry finally realized that he’s head over heels in love with Louis, and he’s pretty sure Louis doesn’t feel the same.

He gently dumps Louis onto the patio and stretches, not noticing the way Louis’s eyes trace the arch of his back.

“What do you want, babe?” Harry stands and heads into the kitchen.

Louis shrugs. “What’re we doing for the rest of the day?”

“The boys are coming over for a cookout tonight, I’m off tomorrow just like you, and beyond that, we’ve got nothing.”

Louis looks pleased. “Good. We’ve been going so hard,” Harry’s mind leaps to a completely inappropriate place, _I wish_ he thinks sadly, “We need a long weekend. Wanna drive up the coast tomorrow? Maybe stay in Santa Barbara for a night or two?”

“That sounds awesome,” Harry agrees. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

He and Louis spend the rest of the afternoon getting ready for their cookout. They’re celebrating Harry signing a major contract with UMG as a sound engineer.  He’s got a week off before starting, and he can’t wait. For some reason, Louis is also taking a few days off from the entertainment law firm he works at with Zayn and Liam. Those two, along with Niall, have become their closest friends in LA, and Harry can’t wait to see them.

The evening is a roaring success. They have a simple dinner, marinated grilled steak tips, a huge salad, garlic bread and wine. Zayn and Liam leave not too long after they’ve finished cleaning up, claiming they’re “tired” and “need to get to sleep.” Right. Whatever. They’re totally fucking on the DL and think no one knows, but Harry knows. Harry ALWAYS knows. It’s his gift, and his curse.

As he’s cleaning up in the kitchen, Niall comes through on his way back out. “Hey Haz,” he says cheerfully, pressing himself up against Harry as Harry does the last of the dishes. “What new with you? Anyone exciting in your life?” Niall wants nothing more than to see all of his friends wedded and bedded, as he says, though not in that order.

“Nah,” Harry says easily, deliberately not thinking about the fact that he’s not met anyone who excites him since the day he met Louis. “Still pining after you, pet!”

Niall pats him affectionately. “Still pining after Louis, you mean?” Oh. That’s right. A couple of months ago, Harry and Niall might have gone day-drinking after Niall got the news that he’d passed the Bar. They might have gotten spectacularly shit faced, and Harry just might have mentioned the Mt. Everest-sized crush that he was harboring for his roommate and best friend. “Yeah,” he sighs, “Always.”

Harry hears a crash from the patio just outside the window, and yells, “What was that?!”

“Nothing!” Shouts Louis, “Just...err, dropped my beer.”

They head back out to the back patio, which is the best part of the house, Harry thinks. They’ve got a gorgeous pool and somehow lucked out on an oversized hot tub, which they’d turned on earlier, and is now steaming gently in the night air. It’s cooled off enough that the hot water is going to feel amazing. Louis carefully pours them wine into the backyard glasses, which are plastic. Early in their tenure of this place, they’d had An Incident involving alcohol, glass and Niall in the hot tub, and it had cost $550 to get the thing cleaned out. No more.

Now, Niall whoops and heads over to the hot tub.  He strips down without any further ado, and, grabbing his wine glass, leaps into the tub, his pale ass glowing in the sunset. Harry and Louis look at each other and then turn as one to look at Niall. He’s sitting, completely relaxed, head leaning against the side, sipping his wine and looking like an angel.

“Um, Niall?” Louis starts hesitantly, “Did you just...get naked and into the hot tub.”

Niall opens his big blue eyes, and blinks innocently up at them. “Yeah, mates, of course.”

Harry clears his throat, trying to convey the depths of his confusion about what is actually happening right now with inarticulate sound. “Do you want a suit?”

“Nah, didn’t feel like going up to my room to get it.”

Harry and Louis stare at each other, frantically signaling questions with their eyebrows. Harry’s go something like this: “His room? What room is his? Does he live here? Wait, what?” From what he can glean from Louis’s expressions, his questions are similar.

Finally, they both stop, shrug and turn towards Niall.

“Cool, bro.” Louis says, and heads to the hot tub, shucking off his shirt as he goes. And Harry’s mind kind of short circuits.

Because Louis is drop dead gorgeous and exactly Harry’s type. Like, if God had looked into the depths of Harry’s soul to design the most sexually attractive person in the world for him, that person would be Louis. Whether it was the dip of his waist, the curve of his bicep, the defined ledge where his glutes met his thighs, his glorious strong, sturdy thighs that really needed to be wrapped around Harry’s head at this point...Harry shook himself, and realized that he’d been so busy waxing rhapsodically about Louis’s body that he’d missed the actual sight of Louis’s body getting stripped down and into the hot tub. Which was probably for the best, because drooling lustfully after your best friend when he’s just trying to get into a hot tub is really kind of a creeper thing to do, HARRY, Harry tells himself.

Harry grabs his own glass and walks over to the hot tub. He strips down, carefully averting his eyes from the men already immersed in the water, and misses the way Louis’s eyes widen before he quickly stares in the other direction, and the way Niall’s eyes narrow as he takes it all in, looking first at Harry and then at Louis.

Somehow, as the conversation continues, Niall keeps shifting, flopping this way and that, and popping under the water, forcing Harry to move as well, until finally he’s scooted around and is sitting pressed up next to Louis as Niall floats like a starfish, unabashedly naked, taking up most of the surface room of the hot tub. He can feel Louis’s leg pressed next to his, and swallows. Louis’s leg feels strong and sure, pressed along side his, and he can almost feel his skin superheating where they’re touching.

Louis glance at him, acting as if they aren’t glued to each other’s sides, and all of a sudden, there is a weight in the spring air. “Okay there, Harry? You look a bit flushed.”

Harry leans his head back, and wills himself not to get hard. _Don’t get a hard-on from this until you’re alone._ “Fine,” he croaks, shifting in the seat, but not moving away.

Niall is now crooning a soft Irish lullaby as he stares up at the sky. Then Harry feels it. Louis’s hand skims his knee, and comes to rest just above it, holding lightly onto his lower thigh, and Harry feels his muscles clench in response.

He looks at Louis, who quirks one eyebrow at him as if to say, “Up for it?” Harry gives one quick nod. He’s not sure what’s changed for Louis. Sure, they’ve spent the last 18 months flirting, without the slightest concept of personal space between them, but this feels...different. All of a sudden he wonders if maybe Louis heard Niall’s comment? He thinks briefly about the fact that Louis hasn’t dated anyone in the last year and a half either, seeming to prefer spending all his time with Harry.

Louis’s hand begins rubbing soft circles into Harry’s thigh and he bites back a moan. Suddenly Niall stops singing, stands up and announces, “All right lads, that’s enough for me. I’m off to bed.” He climbs out of the tub, grabs a towel from the pile off to the side of the pool, wraps it around himself, and heads into the house. Harry watches him head down the hall to the bedrooms, flipping off the lights as he walks, and turns to Louis to ask where Niall might be going, but when he sees the look on Louis’s face, his breath catches and he forgets what he was going to say.

Louis’s eyes are clear, shining in the soft glow of the fairy lights that Harry’s strung up on the eaves of the patio roof. His hand moves slowly higher, as his eyes meet Harry’s, he drops them deliberately to look at Harry’s mouth, then raises them again, and bites his lip.

“What…” Harry’s leg muscle is jumping under Louis’s grip and he feels himself get even harder from the look on Louis’s face, if that’s even possible. “What is happening here right now, Louis?”

“Hmm,” Louis looks speculative. “Well, I overheard a very interesting conversation in the kitchen earlier, Styles.” Harry flushes, remember his confession, “And it made me realize that I might have been mistaken about you.”  His hand inches higher and Harry kept help the moan that escapes his lips.

“See, I figured you’re never made a move because we’re friends, and you said that time that you wouldn’t date a friend, but then I heard you agree when Niall said you were pining over me. So, which is it, Harry? Did you not make a move because we’re friends? Or because you don’t want me?”

“Oh God,” Harry’s head falls back as Louis’s hand finally, finally cups his balls and then grasps his throbbing cock. “Jesus, Louis, I want you, I always want you, every fucking moment,” he gasps, “Since the day we met, I guess, I just didn’t think you….were interested.” His hips start to thrust as Louis’s grip tightens.

Louis presses impossibly closer and whispers in Harry’s ear, “I’m interested, just didn’t think I had a chance.”  Louis’s hand moves faster and faster under the surface of the water, and while water is a terrible lubricant, it’ll do in this case, and Harry’s gasping and panting and moaning brokenly as Louis’s mouth fastens on his and they’re kissing and Harry’s grabbing Louis’s biceps and running his hands up and down Louis’s bare sides and shit, Louis is hard too, and then Harry is pulling Louis onto his lap and wiggling his hand between them to wrap his large hand around both of their hard cocks, pulling them off until first Louis, then Harry comes with a shout that seems to echo in the dark yard.

Finally, Louis speaks. “Shit, are we gonna have to get the hot tub cleaned again?”

They hear a faint shout from the master bedroom, where Niall has apparently taken up residence, “YES.”


	3. Caution: Speed Humps

They stumble off the stage, first Liam, then Zayn, then Niall, Louis and Harry. There’s nothing like the high of performing, Louis thinks, grabbing a bottle of water from one of their handlers and downing it in one go. He’s sweating, heart pounding, and feels like there are ants under his skin, he’s so itchy and anxious. He glances sideways at Harry, who’d been on fire tonight, between his dancing, writhing, and grabbing his crotch with that big hand. Louis swallows. Things between them have been sexual from the beginning, and Louis is pretty sure Harry is as besotted with him as he is with Harry. They’ve already been called into meetings several times because of their antics, but Louis thinks it’s worth it. He and Harry have never defined what they have, but Louis’s never felt the need. He watches Harry move ahead of him and all of a sudden, his eyes tracing the curve of Harry’s ass, he just *wants.*

He lets the other boys move ahead, and then, as Harry gets almost too far ahead of him, grabs him by the back pocket of his tight jeans, and pulls him into Louis’s dressing room. That’s new this tour, everyone getting their own space. It’s a waste of money, Louis thinks as he drags Harry, who is coming willingly, a grin splitting his face, as they always end up in each other’s space anyway. With that thought, he reminds himself to lock the door.

“Got something on your mind, Lou?” Harry laughs breathlessly as he lets himself be manhandled into the dressing room. Louis slams the door and locks it, Harry’s eyes going dark at the sound. He knows what that means,  that they’re not going to make it back to the hotel. Louis shoves Harry up against the door and presses up against him. He can feel Harry already half-hard, and thrusts his hips against Harry’s, so Harry can feel him too, so Harry has no doubt just what he does to Louis.

Harry’s head thunks back against the plywood door as his eyes close and he moans softly. “Fuck, Louis.”

“Don’t wanna wait for that.” Louis begins working his way across Harry’s sharp jawline and down his neck, paying special attention to the sensitive skin just under his ear. He knows that always gets Harry going, and his ministrations are rewarded with a sharp jerk of Harry’s hips, thrusting hard against his own. “Jesus, Harry, you’re so fucking hot, you were so good out there tonight.” He keeps kissing Harry’s neck, trapping Harry’s long, hard body against the door with his own. He can hear the door rattling in the frame, and thinks it’s probably obvious what’s going on. The thought makes him harder, and he presses even more firmly against Harry. He hopes they’re listening, he hopes they can hear what he does to Harry, what they do to each other, what no one else can do. He hopes they can hear that Harry is his and he is Harry’s.

He shifts to get the perfect angle, and then, holy god, Harry picks up one of those endless legs, and wraps it around Louis’s hips, pulling him even closer, if that’s possible. They’re moving faster now, harder, the door rattling even louder. Harry cups Louis’s face with one hand and pulls him in for a kiss, and it’s like Louis’s whole body goes up in flames. Harry’s tongue moves over his own, and Louis is gasping and moaning, and then all of a sudden, Harry’s eyes are rolling back in his head, his rhythm falters as his hips jerk once, twice and then he’s crying out, and coming in his pants.    


And Jesus Christ, if that’s not the hottest fucking thing Louis has seen since, well, since he blew Harry in the shower yesterday, to be fair, but it doesn’t take long, and somehow it’s the feel of the damp patch on Harry’s jeans seeping into his own that sets him off and he comes with a roar and a gasp of “FUCK.”

They stand frozen for a moment, and then Harry’s leg thumps back to the ground, and they’re staring at each other, laughing and kissing. As the blood slowly stops pounding in Louis’s ears, he hears voices outside in the corridor, and then Niall shouts, “If you two have quite finished in there, I’d like to get changed.”

Louis looks around and realizes that in his haste, he’s pulled Harry into Niall’s dressing room, not his own. He calls out, sheepishly, “Oops?”

Harry whispers, “Hi,” and then, “I love you, Louis.”

Time seems to still as Louis stares at Harry’s impossibly green eyes, his tousled curls, his shy smile. “I love you too, Harry.” They stare at each other for another moment, and then are rocked back as Niall pounds on the door. 

“OI!”

Louis straightens his shoulders, collecting what is left of his dignity, and grabs Harry’s hand, ignoring the large, sticky patches on both of their crotches. At least their clothes are on, the other boys should thank them, really. 

As he opens the door, pulling Harry out after him, he says, “Calm your tits, Horan, it only took 3 minutes.” He stalks off down the hall, to the sound of Niall’s laughter.


	4. Cation: Manhole

Louis shuts the door and locks it behind him, feeling an anxious excitement in his belly, as he heads towards Harry’s dorm. He and Harry have been seeing each other for 4 months. They’d met over the summer, having both chosen to stay in their small university town, working, hanging out, generally having fun. They’d met at the restaurant where they both worked, Louis as a bartender and Harry as a chef. They’d clicked immediately, and it had only take 2 weeks for Louis to get up the courage to ask Harry out, who’d replied with a blinding grin, “I thought you’d never ask!” 

When school had started, they’d had to really work to make time for each other, between classes, Louis’s rec soccer team, and Harry’s various clubs (this Fall he’s been into photography, songwriting and knitting). As the semester had progressed, their friendship groups had blended seamlessly, their possessions had become equally distributed between their two dorm rooms, and Louis had realized that he’d fallen head over heels in love with the curly haired menace, even if he’s not yet found quite the right time to say those words to Harry.

Sexually, they are the most compatible pairing that Louis has ever experienced. He has a feeling that they are the most sexually compatible people of all time, ever, anywhere. They’d taken it slow, getting to know each others’ bodies, hearts, and minds. And now, they’re going to “take it to the next level,” as Harry had said a couple of nights ago, before collapsing in giggles as Louis had pummeled him with a pillow. Louis is in love with an idiot. 

There is just one thing. Neither one of them has ever really...actually done this before. Gone all the way. Fucked. Made love. Whatever you wanted to call it. Harry had very shyly blushed and asked if Louis would mind topping. Louis had said an enthusiastic yes in that moment, but now he is, to be honest, bricking it a bit.

What if he’s no good at it? What if Harry hates it and breaks up with him? What if he hurts Harry? **_WHAT IF NEITHER OF THEM ARE EVEN REALLY GAY AND THIS IS HOW THEY FIND OUT?_**

Well, okay that last one is probably a bit unrealistic, Louis thinks, but the others. Oh god. He’s been reading up and watching porn to prep (well, and wanking himself silly at the thought of tonight’s planned events, so, okay, he’s definitely gay). He’s got great theoretical knowledge on how to do this, but you know what they say, in theory, there’s no difference between theory and practice. In practice, however…

He stops outside of Harry’s dorm and sits on a bench to breathe for a moment, wondering if Harry is as nervous as he is. He almost hopes so, as he always does better when he has someone to take care of. All of a sudden he hears his name being called from above, and looks up to see Harry’s grinning face leaning out of his 2nd floor window.

“Hey, babe, were you planning on coming up?”

“Oh yeah,” Louis says, trying to manage nonchalant and probably just achieving vaguely panicked. “Yeah, Harry. I was just. You know. Breathing.”

He can hear Harry’s snort, and then, “Get up here, you idiot.”

Louis grumbles to himself, but stands up, and heads into the building.  When he gets to the door, Harry already has it open and is standing, waiting for him. He yanks Louis into the room and slams the door behind him. He immediately presses Louis against the door, caging him in with his strong arms in the way that Louis secretly loves, but would never admit, even on the pain of death.

“Jesus, I love it when you do that,” he breathes. Okay, whatever. Clear communication is an integral part of any healthy relationship. Harry leans in closer. 

“I know,” he whispers in Louis’s ear, which makes him shiver, and then Harry is kissing him, and Louis loses track of the plot for a moment. From the way Harry is attempting to devour his mouth, Louis is pretty sure he hasn’t spent the last 2 days working himself into an anxious frenzy over the thought of their plans. Harry seems to read something in his body’s response though, and pulls back a bit, a frown furrowing his brow.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Louis lies convincingly.

“Liar.” Harry smiles gently, “What’s wrong, baby?”

Louis thunks his head back against the door, suddenly embarrassed by all his worries. He can feel himself flushing.

“C’mon, you know you can tell me anything,” Harry is really starting to look concerned now. “Did you, um, change your mind? Because, we don’t have to do anything that you’re not ready for.”

“No!” Louis’s voice cracks and he takes a deep breath. “No, it’s not that, Haz, believe me, I am so ready for this. SO READY! But…” his voice trails off, “What if, like, I’m not good at it?”

Harry smiles the most gentle, loving smile that Louis thinks has ever been directed at him. “Oh sweetheart.” He presses a soft kiss to Louis’ mouth. “We’re in this together, right? Maybe it’ll be great, maybe it won’t, I don’t know what I’m doing either.” The confident admission eases Louis’s fears, and he feels something give way in his chest, and all of a sudden he can breath again. “But it’s you and me, yeah? So it’ll be amazing, whatever happens. I want this, baby. I want this with you.” And with that, he presses back against Louis and dear God, Harry is hard already.

The feeling of Harry pressed hard and heavy against is never not going to turn Louis on, and he whispers, “Me too, darling. Me too.”

And then, for a while, there are no more words. Just kisses, long, slow and deep, mouths moving against each other as their hips start to shift. Harry nips along Louis’s jaw line and then maneuvers him over to the narrow, single bed that comes standard in all the dorms rooms. There’s a moment of confusion as Harry attempts to remove Louis’s shirt without stopping kissing him, but they sort it out, and are soon lying tangled up on top of the covers, clad in only their boxers.

Louis is running his hands up and down Harry’s back as Harry moves over him, pressing him down into the mattress. He lets himself get caught up sensation - Harry’s mouth on his, Harry’s body on his, the feel of Harry’s skin under his hand, the scent of them together filling his nose. He can feel himself getting harder as Harry ruts against him. Gasping, he pulls back for a moment, and then, seizing his courage in both hands, he starts nudging Harry’s boxers down lower on his hips.

Harry quickly gets with the program and wriggles out of the offending shorts, and then, in a sudden flurry of movement, strips Louis down as well, until he’s lying startled, flat on his back on the bed, clad only in a bemused smile.

Looking smug, Harry reaches into the nightstand drawer and tosses a bottle of lube and a couple of condoms onto the bed next to Louis, and then sinks down. “Now,” he says thoughtfully, “where was I?”

He places a kiss on Louis’s collarbone. “Here?” He begins to move his way down LOuis’s body, and Louis’s hands fist into the comforter in an effort to hold still. “Here? Hmm. Nope, I don’t think that’s quite right.”  His mouth moves lower and lower until he finally sinks down, taking Louis’s aching cock down in a move that he’s been working on for weeks.

“FUCK,” Louis whispers, “Jesus, Harry.” He moans as Harry’s mouth works him over, even as Harry’s hand is skimming over his hips and thighs. Louis feels sparks dancing everywhere Harry touches, and can feel that familiar sensation starting to build in his gut. “Harry,” he hisses and tries to sit up, reluctantly pushing Harry’s head away from his groin, “Stop, baby, stop! I don’t want to come yet!”

Harry pulls off, his gorgeous mouth making a disappointed moue. “I was just getting going!”

Louis rolls his eyes, “Well, if you want this to last longer than 30 more seconds, you gotta give me a breather. Besides….” here he gently pushes Harry onto his back on the bed and grabs the lube. “It’s not fair, you’re doing all the work.”

As Louis coats his fingers, and begins running a teasing hand over Harry’s balls, Harry’s legs drop open and as he stares at the ceiling, he muses, “But, Lou, can it really be called work when it’s so damn fun?”

Louis snorts, and runs a finger down Harry’s perineum. He feels his worry start to kick in again, and takes a deep breath as he begins to press on the furled opening. Harry reaches up, and traces his thumb down Louis’s furrowed brow.

“Louis,” he says softly, shifting as Louis presses harder, “I’m good, baby, I really am.” He gives a sharp gasp as Louis’s finger sinks in, and all of a sudden, it hits Louis, this is it, this is them moving forward. As he thrusts his finger gently, working into Harry’s body, he leans over and kisses him gently. “I love you, Harry Styles.” 

Harry’s eyes widen and look suspiciously bright in the light of his desk lamp, but his smile could be seen from space, Louis thinks. “I love you too, Louis Tomlinson.”

As Louis works Harry’s body open, he thinks about easy they make it look in porn. 

“That it?”

“No.”

“That?”

“No.”

“”How about…”

“FUCK!” Harry just about levitates off the bed, and Louis feels a sudden smug sense of satisfaction. “THIRD TRY, BABY!” Harry is too busy panting and groaning to do anything more complicated than roll his eyes at Louis, who just grins in response, feeling his confidence soar.

They work their way up to two fingers and then three, until Harry is writhing on the bed and Louis is close to exploding himself, just from the sight of it.

“Ok, ok!” Harry pants, “I think, FUCK Louis, I think I’m ready!”

Louis grabs the condom, opens it carefully and rolls it on. He shivers a bit at the unfamiliar sensation, he hasn’t worn one of these since he was 16, coincidentally the age where he realized he was far more interested in getting Gregory Adams’ pants than his sister Leslie, who Louis has been dating at the time. He brings himself back to the present moment, and the boy on bed, who’s looking at him with such open fondness and love that Louis feels a bit breathless.

“Ready, baby?” he asks.   


Harry nods, and then he sinks back and pulls his legs up and open, laying himself bare for Louis, and fuck, if that’s not the most erotic thing Louis has ever seen. Louis lines himself up, and pushes forward with his hips. It takes him a minute to figure out the angle and pressure, but when he does, he and Harry hiss simultaneously as he moves slowly, more and more deeply into Harry’s tight body.

Harry is breathing deeply and Louis panics. “Are you ok? Does it hurt? Fuck, Harry, am I hurting you?” The sensation around his cock, the  _ hotwettightHARRY _ of it all is making him lightheaded, and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to just let loose and thrust madly.

“Just,” Harry’s voice creaks, “Just hold on a sec.”

After a long moment of the two of them frozen, locked together, Louis staring at Harry and Harry staring at the ceiling, Harry looks into Louis’s eyes, and the pressure eases a bit as Harry exhales and relaxes. “Okay,” he breathes, “you can go.”

Louis starts to move. He reminds himself, his job is to make this good for Harry. He’s guaranteed the big show here, but Harry...Louis props himself up on one arm and reaches between them. Harry’s cock is half-hard, his erection had flagged a bit, and Louis carefully begins to work him over by hand as he moves within him. Harry begins to pant as his cock fills again, and then, Louis shifts the angle of his hips and Harry arches frantically underneath him, crying out “FUCK FUCK FUCK!”

And, Louis realizes, he’s got this. Even if his hand is cramping and he knows his back is going to be sore tomorrow, he’s never felt like this before, never felt so connected, so intimate, so in tune with another person. He thrust his hips again and again, trying to recreate that angle, hitting it more often than not, as his hand moves over Harry’s cock in a blur until Harry is shouting incoherently and coming all over his stomach. The sight of it undoes Louis, and he follows quickly, almost whiting out as he spills into the condom and finally collapses onto Harry, unheeding of the sticky mess between them. 

There’s silence in the room as they both come down, heart rates slowing and breathing evening out. Louis feels Harry’s chest begin to shake under him. Is Harry okay? Is he crying? Was this too much? Louis manages to lift his head and Harry is...not crying. Harry is laughing, and when he catches Louis staring at him, he says, “And you thought...Fuck, Louis, you thought you’d be bad at that? You fucker. That was…” his laughter stills as he just looks at Louis.

“That was beautiful, Lou. That was incredible.” Weak with relief, Louis carefully pulls out and disposes of the condom. He grabs some wipes and wipes them both down, tossing them into the garbage can under the desk. 

His voice croaks as he starts to speak, and he clears his throat carefully, “I just wanted it to be good for you. Because. You know. I love you.”

Harry pulls Louis down and manages to get them both under the covers, wrapping his arms around Louis. 

“I love you, too, Louis. Always.”


End file.
